


Good Fucking Morning

by ALargeExpanse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angel Family, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Everyone is having a great time and everyone is happy, Everyone smokes a lot of weed, Facials, Fluff, Frottage, Happy Sex, Humor, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALargeExpanse/pseuds/ALargeExpanse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes of Dean and Castiels life as high school seniors. All the angels are a big dysfunctional family, Dean practically lives in their house, Castiel smokes a ton of weed, Gabriel and Anna are bffs,  Dean and Cas have a loving, angst free relationship, and Cas steals Annas clothes a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 8 In The Fucking Morning

It’s 8 in the fucking morning and Dean is standing in front of his shitty high school waiting for his boyfriend. It’s 8 in the fucking morning and it’s strangely dark outside for a summer day, the wind is blowing warm, the sunlight filtering through gaps in the dark grey clouds, casting a strange dark gold tint on the world. He gets lost in it for a second, closing his eyes and breathing in deep as a gust of warm air rushes through his hair. It’ll rain soon. Soon but not yet. Later but not now. It’s 8 in the fucking morning and he snaps out of it as he sees Castiel walking slowly towards him, and then Dean isn’t thinking about the sky or the wind at all, he’s just thinking about the fact that Castiel is wearing black denim cut off shorts that he looks sort of ridiculous in, that he’s holding an absolutely gigantic cup of coffee in his hand, and that Dean is totally gonna steal it from him and drink it as soon as possible.

Cas walks over to him, clearly very out of it, looking like he’s either extremely tired or extremely stoned. There is a distinct possibility that he’s both. Dean runs a hand through Cas’s already messy hair, amused by the look of defeated annoyance that Cas gives him. “Good fucking morning, sleepyhead.” Cas groans unhappily.  
“I hate every second of being alive on this earth.”  
Dean laughs, loud and genuine and wraps an arm around Cas’s shoulders, drawing him in close as he starts walking, steering them in the direction of their classes. “Aww babe, you’re so adorable when you’re pissed off.” 

Cas gives him that look of defeated annoyance again, and takes a long drink from his cup of coffee before Dean grabs it and takes a drink himself. Cas makes a hurt noise and makes grabby hands at the cup, trying to pull it out of Dean's mouth as he’s drinking. “That’s mine you asshole, I need it! What will I be without enough caffeine? I will die Dean, I will die and you will have to toss my body into a lake.”  
“You wouldn’t need so much coffee if you didn’t get so fuckin’ baked every morning, you realize that right? Also, why would I need to toss your body in the lake if you died?” Cas snort-laughs and it's half gross and half adorable. “Listen, I know what I’m about, I know where I want my body to go when I die, and I know I’m not about my idiot boyfriend drinking all my coffee before I’ve even gotten to first period.” He finally succeeds in grabbing the cup out of Dean's hand, and he glares at him from over the top of his cup as he takes a drink from it. “You are such a piece of shit, did you know that?” And Dean just grins. He is always fucking grinning. He thinks everything is so funny, and Cas finds it infuriating. “Yeah but I’m so cute!” He says and winks. Cas just rolls his eyes and walks into his classroom. “I’ll meet you at lunch, and you owe me a cup of coffee.”  
Dean nods. “Deal.” and it’s Cas’s turn to grin. 

\--------------------------------------------

 

The first four periods of the day roll by without incident, Cas’s high slowly fading as the hours go on, making school much less bearable. By the time lunch comes around, he practically bolts out of class, speed walking out of the halls and towards the parking lot where Dean is waiting for him. Cas waves when he sees him. Dean is sort of absurd to look at right now, wearing a white v-neck with an unbuttoned red flannel shirt and sitting on the hood of his jet black gas guzzling piece of shit muscle car, but also, Cas has to admit that he looks pretty cute. But he’s biased. They’re dating, so he’s contractually obligated to find Dean cute, even if he is kind of an embarrassing caricature of blue collar masculinity. The second Dean sees Cas his whole face lights up with that stupid grin of his, and Cas can’t help but smile too, and walk a little faster over to him. 

\--------------------------------------------

 

They’re sitting in Dean's car, about a ten minute drive away from campus, smoking a joint that Cas rolled like their lives depend on it. Cas feels at peace, a feeling he rarely gets to experience, and he just wants to lie back and absorb it all. Some classic rock song that Dean loves is playing softly on the radio, the sky is gray and heavy, the wind is blowing warm and soft, promising rain, but there is no rain yet. Just humidity and the faint smell of electricity in the air. He’s slumped over next to Dean, the lines of their legs and their ribs pressed against each other, Dean's arm over the back of the car seat, Cas’s head leaning on his shoulder. Dean is tracing the lines of the rose designs on his racerback tank top. Dean breaks the almost-silence, his voice low and soft. “This shirt is like, so sick.” and Cas starts laughing.  
“Thanks it’s uh, it’s Anna's actually.”  
“Who’s Anna?”  
“My sister.”  
“Holy shit I always forget you have siblings.” Cas laughs again.  
“I wish I could forget I have siblings.” he groans and Dean starts laughing too. 

Dean coughs a little, passing the half smoked joint back to Cas. “Dude before we go back we should get slushies. And some beef jerky, and some barbecue potato chips and some-” Cas takes a long drag and tunes out Dean's rambling about what they should get for lunch out as he looks over the lake. It’s really truly beautiful, and it reminds Cas of something that he can’t really place, before Dean's words cut through his thoughts. “Or we could just get sandwiches.”  
“What?”  
“For lunch.”  
“I don’t know if it’s possible to put all the things you just listed into a sandwich”  
Dean suddenly looks oddly serious, narrowing his eyes and nodding ever so slightly. “I can try man. I can try.”  
He just gets a pastrami Reuben with some chips, and does not try to put pickle flavored pringles into it like he was telling Cas he was going to on the way over in the car, and Cas is grateful. Pickle flavored chips make Dean's mouth taste kind of weird, and he definitely still wants to cram a quick make out session into their lunch period is completely over.  
\--------------------------------------------

 

It’s after sixth period and Dean and Cas are both walking out to Dean's car when he asks. “Hey can I stay at your place tonight?” Cas is a little startled by the question, and is then a little confused by the fact that he’s startled. Him and Dean have been dating for two months, why wouldn’t he ask to stay over at his place? In fact, it’s probably weirder that Dean’s never been to his house. But Cas hasn’t been to Dean's house either. Cas’s house is kind of a nightmare, with more eccentric siblings than one person should ever have to deal with. But he knows that Deans whole situation is a lot weirder. A lot darker. There’s a kind of vibrancy to Castiel's home situation, even though it’s hellish to deal with every day, with all the arguments and constant conversations and Gabriel's pranks and weird obsession with cooking and Anna's art projects and Michael’s and Lucifer's constant bickering, not to mention Castiel's own antagonistic relationship with Raphael that tends to manifest in fist fights during family barbecues. 

But Dean's house is different. A dead mother. A fucked up father. A little brother that Dean’s had to raise, who spends most of his time out of the house just to get away from the empty, dark energy that permeates the house. Or at least, that’s what Castiel’s gathered. Dean doesn’t talk much except for when he’s really drunk. Something about that house, that family, taught him to hold everything in. Cas was taught the opposite. His family is all fire and passion, not that that somehow fixes things. Someone's always in a fight with someone else, and it’s just as common to hear yelling as it is to hear laughter. But there’s something comforting about it. The vibrancy. The warmth. The constant pulse of energy and life. 

Deans house is cold. The kind of house Dean never wants to leave Sam alone in, and not the kind of house Dean wants to be alone in either. Whenever Sam's gone, Dean's gone too. Cas nods and smiles “Yeah, of course you can.”


	2. Dude, Cum On My Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets Cas's family, and other things happen too.

The first thing Dean notices when he pulls up to it is that Cas’s house is. Weird. On the outside. He’s sure it’s weird on the inside too, but definitely, weird from the outside. It’s an old victorian, white with black trim, and Dean is sure that it was elegant at one point or another, but at this point it’s in a serious state of disrepair. The only thing that looks like it’s been replaced or repaired is the front door, which has been covered in every shade of green paint, depicting a beautiful landscape, a garden, that reminds Dean of Eden. It’s beautiful. The lawn is brittle and brown, but there are pots and pots filled with beautiful plants on the steps leading up to the front porch and succulents growing out of hanging pots on the overhang over the porch. There’s a large red couch on the porch, and a tiny, shitty tv balanced on an old milk crate in front of it. Dean can hear music and tv and conversation coming from inside the house. 

 

“Okay, so I think I should warn you before you go inside, I have uh, a lot of siblings.”  
“Okay.” Dean has a brother, he knows how siblings can be, he’s pretty prepared for whatever.  
“No like, I have. A LOT of siblings.” Dean just shrugs, feeling sort of awkward just standing on the porch of Cas’s house like this, and honestly he kind of wants to get inside as soon as possible so he can raid the fridge for beer and lunch meat. “Well, I mean, how many?” Castiel starts to count on his fingers and all of a sudden Dean very much gets the idea of what Cas was trying to tell him, which is this: Shit is crazy in the Shurley house. But shit won't get any less crazy with Dean and Cas standing on the porch to Cas’s house, so Dean smiles and extends an arm towards the door. “Shall we?” Cas laughs and nods.  
“We shall.” 

All in all, it’s much less dramatic than Dean pictured. All he sees is what he assumes is Cas’s older brother, a short blonde guy lounging around on a couch drinking a margarita out of an old jam jar watching Family Feud in nothing but a pair of tie-dye boxer shorts while a redhead with long wavy hair and eyes that reminded Dean a lot of Cas’s sat next to him, drawing in a large sketchbook and yelling out her guesses to the questions on the show.  
The blondes face lights up when he sees Castiel, his voice loud as he waves and calls out “Hey little bro!” This is the first time Dean ever met him, but it’s pretty easy to tell he’s already a little drunk. Castiel rolls his eyes and huffs when he sees them. “Dean, meet my idiot brother Gabriel, Gabe, meet my idiot boyfriend Dean.” Gabriel winks and raises his margarita in a toast, before taking a gigantic drink and giving Dean a thumbs up with the hand not holding a margarita. “Hey Dean.”  
“Hey Gabriel.”  
“And this is Anael.” She doesn’t look up from her sketchbook as she retorts  
“You know I go by Anna, shithead”  
“Hey, Anna.” Anna looks up to say hi to Dean, and Dean can see the exact moment when she realizes the fact that Castiel is wearing her shirt. Her expression barely changes, but he can tell she’s pissed, which is double freaky. “Cas, if your boyfriend wasn’t here right now I would kick your ass for stealing my clothes again.” Gabe and Dean both start laughing while Cas covers his eyes with one hand and grabs Dean's sleeve with the other, leading him out of the room. “Anna's great” Dean says and laughs. Castiel shakes his head and says, dead seriously, “She is a monster,” and Dean can hear Anna and Gabriel's voices fading as they walk up the narrow staircase. 

The walls on the inside of the house aren’t white, or at least, not all of them. The door to the house was just the beginning of it. The walls are covered in paint too. Some of it is abstract, shapes and splatters, but some of it is incredibly intricate, large and deliberate. There’s a lot of religious imagery. Cas catches Dean looking at a series paintings of stained glass windows. “Anna painted those. It was fucking annoying. She stood in here for hours and hours for like a straight 4 days and it was impossible to get around her.”  
“Did she do all of it?”  
“No. Gabe did some. The really bad graffiti is Lucifer. And pretty much everyone in the family has drawn or painted on at least one of the walls.” He sounds annoyed but proud at the same time. Like how Dean sounds when he talks about Sam. It makes him smile.  
“Dude they’re cool. Your family seems pretty cool too.”  
“They’re all assholes.”

 

Cas practically drags Dean through his house, trying to avoid as many of his siblings as possible. Luckily, most of the Shurleys were busy a lot of the time, and Cas was the youngest, which meant that many of his siblings had already moved out, but unfortunately there was still a good amount of them living in the house. By the time Dean gets to Cas’s room on the small third floor he’s been introduced to Gabriel, Anna, Uriel, Lucifer, and Hannah. He meets Uriel while walking down the hall of the second floor “Hi Uriel, this is Dean he’s staying the night” Uriel looks at Cas critically after looking at Dean, and rolls his eyes. Cas turns to face Dean, mouthing “asshole” at him. Dean grins. “What’s his deal?”  
Cas shrugs, “we got along really well as kids but uh, I don’t know, we just drifted apart. We grew up into very different people.” Their conversation continues until Dean meets another one of Cas’s siblings a second later as Cas walks through the common area, and bumps into a tall redhead. Red hair must run in the family, and Dean isn’t complaining. He likes redheads. He isn’t sure how he feels about this one yet though. Her eyes are icy like Castiels, but not nearly as large as his or Annas. She’s taller than Castiel, and probably older. She seems like the most put together person in this house, almost out of place among the old couches and paint splattered walls, wearing a dress shirt layered under a sweater, and a pair of dark skinny jeans. “Oh, Hannah, sorry for bumping into you.” She does that little head tilt that must be a genetic thing, looking first at Castiel, and then to Dean, before looking back to Cas and smiling. “It’s okay. Is this Dean?” Cas and Dean both nod at the same time. She walks past Cas and extends an arm to Dean to shake his hand, like he’s some kind of business man instead of a stoned teenager. “Hello, Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you. I mean, mostly just the same few things over and over, but certainly, a lot.” Dean laughs nervously. Cas rolls his eyes and makes an “ugh” noise as she smiles and continues to walk out of the room. She looks at Dean as she walks past him, and Dean smiles and waves in response. He decides that he definitely likes this redhead too. 

Dean notices a pattern in Castiel's brothers as he sees another blonde haired man sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette and watching some procedural cop show. “Lucifer, fucking dammit, go smoke in the basement where you live instead of ruining this room.” Lucifer just laughs and flips Castiel off. “You can’t tell me to do anything, you’re like twelve.”  
“I am eighteen! An adult! Legally an adult! Not twelve! And I’m gonna tell Michael and he’s gonna kick your ass.”  
“No, you’re gonna tell Michael, Michael’s gonna yell at me next time he gets home and then I’m gonna kick your ass. Besides, you’re in high school still, so you’re not really an adult at all.”  
“Yeah so? At least I’m actually gonna graduate unlike you!” Lucifer gasped and put a hand to his chest, a portrait of mock offense. “Oh you wound me, Castiel! Oh dear, how will I ever be happy without a high school diploma? How will I ever live up to the prestigious Shurley name? It’s not like I’m having a great time growing weed in the basement or anything!”  
“I wish you had moved out instead of Balthazar.”  
“Me too! Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you whining all the time and smoking all my weed!” Cas frowns and then it’s his turn to flip Lucifer off. “You are the worst. Come on Dean.” Castiel's expression is serious, and Dean can’t stop laughing, ruining the effect of Castiel's death glare. Cas grabs him by the sleeves and leads him out of the room, towards the stairs at the end of the hall. “I love you too!” Lucifer calls after Cas as he walks away.

“Do you seriously have a brother named after the devil? That’s some next level shit. No wonder he’s such an asshole.”  
“Being named after the devil didn’t make him an asshole, being raised by a negligent father, a series of incompetent mothers who all left and never came back, and a family of petty criminals and idiots made him an asshole.” 

The third floor isn’t really a “floor” as much as it’s one room, and a bathroom. The room is small and gets hot as hell in the summer, but it’s the most isolated room in the house so Castiel was happy to live in it, especially after being forced to share a room with Gabriel before Balthazar moved out. He has a mattress on the floor covered in pale blue sheets, a large duvet, and a series of posters and tapestries hung on his walls. 

“So, the angel name thing, that’s not just you?” Cas rolls his eyes. This is obviously not the first time someone's asked him this, and he already has a monologue prepared. “My dad explained it like this: We don’t really have shit, as a family or as individuals. My dad never really accomplished much, we don’t have money, and we’re a family of too many kids with three different moms who ALL bailed on us. So dad figured we could have at least one thing, names with meaning and weight, the names of angels. He said he could give us so little that he wanted to give us something big. A sense like we belonged in the universe in a better place than we exist now.I mean, yeah, the names are weird. Anael. Uriel. Castiel.” He laughs. “Lucifer. They are weird. But I like them. It’s kind of stupid logic on my dad's part, and I know that, but it's kind of cool. Or something. I don’t know.” Dean smiles.  
“I think it’s cool too.”  
“Thanks”  
“Did you ever think about the fact that Anaels name kinda sounds like ‘anal’”  
“Please don’t ever say anything ever again.”  
“Uriel kind of sounds like urinal.”  
“Dean, I am never going to have sex with you ever again.” 

\--------------------------------------------

Dean lays out on Cas’s bed, looking up, and he sees something he didn’t notice before. Directly above Castiels bed there’s a beautiful mandala, or maybe it’s supposed to be another stained glass window painted on the ceiling. It’s beautiful, and Dean feels a strange amount of reverence when he looks at it. He can tell Anna painted it. He wonders if her and Cas are close. “Your family really takes the whole angel thing seriously huh?” Cas shrugs  
“Anna's particularly drawn to it. Always has been. Nobody in our family really ever goes to church. Not even dad. He just writes books about ghost hunters or some shit.”  
“Your family is fucking wild.” Cas snorts  
“Yeah, tell me about it.” 

\-----------------------------------------------  
The afternoon has faded into evening and Dean is, to put it simply, stoned as fuck. He’s laying on Cas’s bed, sprawled out as wide as he can go and staring up at the ceiling, getting lost in the intricate designs of of the mandala painted on it. He can hear Cas shuffling around in his room, digging through the piles of clothes scattered around his floor and grumbling, Finally it seems that he’s found what he’s looking for, because when Dean looks over at him his stupid little jean shorts have been replaced by a pair of fuzzy sweatpants with swirling purple, blue, and pink designs. Dean laughs before he can stop himself, and Castiel shoots him a look. “Dude, you gotta stop stealing your sister's clothes” he says, and laughs again, even as the look Cas is giving him begins to turn into a glare. “I’m saying this for your safety! She’s gonna kick your ass.”  
“These are MY pants Dean, not Annas. And also, I do not steal her clothes, I borrow them without telling her.” He’s still glaring at Dean, but it's turned into something more humorous. He walks towards the bed, his glare turning into an all out grin. “They’re reaaally soft” he purrs and Dean waggles his eyebrows propping himself up on his elbows. “Dude good thing those aren’t your sister's pants cuz otherwise I’d feel real weird about what's about to happen”  
“Don’t talk about my sister while I’m trying to seduce you you weirdo.” Cas says and laughs, but his laugh cuts off halfway through and turns into a soft groan. Dean grins and grabs Cas by his hip and palms his dick through his pants. It’s clumsy and basically the opposite of suave, but him and Cas have basically only fucked in the backseat of Dean's car, so really, having sex on Cas’s shitty mattress on the floor is basically the most romantic thing him and Cas have done. “Holy shit these pants are soft.”  
“My dick is in your hand and you’re talking about my pants?” Cas cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed.  
“I’ve seen your dick! I’ve never seen these pants before and oh man you were not lying they’re great.”  
“I think it’s a sign that the passion has left from our relationship when you’re doing shitty banter while I’m trying to fuck you.” 

Dean rolls his eyes, grabbing Cas’s waistband and yanking it down, exposing Cas’s already hardening cock and grins as Cas sinks to his knees, leaning heavily onto the bed and grabbing Dean's face in his hands, pulling him into a kiss. It’s soft and careful and Dean shifts so he can thread a hand through Cas’s messy black hair, pulling at the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck until Cas moans into his mouth, his legs spreading a little as Dean's hand wraps around his cock. Dean pulls away from the kiss with that stupid grin on his face, and when he opens his mouth Castiel isn’t sure if he’s going to say something wonderful or annoying. “Dude. I wanna suck your dick for like three hours.” Okay. annoying and wonderful. Cas pulls a face.  
“I don’t think that would even be fun after like, 45 minutes. Do you wanna suck my dick for like. Ten or twenty minutes?” Dean lets out a little laugh and nods.  
“That works too. I mean, that sounds awesome. Having your dick in my mouth for twenty minutes sounds totally awesome.” Dean leans up to kiss Cas again, grabbing the back of his neck and his shoulder as he topples both of them over so Cas is underneath him. He moves from Cas’s mouth to his neck, sucking and biting at the space where his jaw and his neck meet, and he can feel Cas grinding his now fully hard cock against the cloth of his sweat pants, letting out these breathy little moans. Dean spends a few moments there at his neck, licking and biting, loving the sounds that Cas is making, loving the feeling of Cas’s fingers tightening in his hair as he gets more and more desperate. “Okay, I’m not complaining about this really great job you’re doing of turning my neck into one big hickey, but I’m pretty sure we had a having my dick in your mouth arrangement?” Dean laughs. Cas talking like that should probably be a turn off for him, but really it just makes Dean like him more. Cas is like that, all straight forward and sharp and demanding, and honestly Dean loves it, so he just laughs. “Oh don’t worry, your dick is gonna be all up in my mouth real soon.”

“Okay well it’s kind of hard to blow me while you’re talking sooo..” Cas raises his eyebrows and makes a sweeping “go on” gesture with a hand. Dean just rolls his eyes, but he relents, standing up and grabbing Cas by his hips to pull him to the edge of the bed so Dean can settle down onto his knees in front of him. “Dick in mouth action in five...four...three…”  
“Dean, I could have learned how to suck my own dick in the amount of time it’s taking y-” Cas’s sentence cuts off and melts into a long moan as Dean takes the head of his cock into his mouth before pulling off to mouth at the base, his hands digging into the flesh of Cas’s thighs as he licks up the length of his cock before putting the head in his mouth again, taking more of it into his mouth than the last time. One of Cas’s hands is against his jaw, the pad of his thumb stroking his cheekbone, and the other is gripping the bed, like all the gravity has just turned off and it’s the only thing anchoring him to the earth. Dean pulls off so he can bite and lick at Cas’s hip bones, wrapping his hand around his cock and licking the head as Cas bucks into his fist, moaning something that sounds like “Dean holy shit, so hot, so good so fucking-” As Dean makes good on his promise, sucking Cas off for what are probably some of the best ten minutes of his life, before he’s moaning and Dean knows he’s close, so he pulls off, grabbing Castiel's cock in his hand. “Dude cum on my face.”

Cas lets out a breathy, “Whaa-?” His half lidded eyes opening a little more, his eyebrows raising. Dean's still jerking him off, “Do it! Cum on my face it’ll be awesome!” Cas’s eyes widen and he nods and complies, his hand still resting against Dean's face as he cums. Dean’s left with several streaks across his face, one over his lips, another across his face, a third dripping down his cheek. Dean has that goofy fucking grin on his face and Cas has to admit, cumming on his face is, as Dean would put it, awesome. 

Until Dean is standing up, tackling Cas onto the bed, kissing him messily as Cas squeals. “De-aa-n! Gross!” Dean is laughing and he doesn’t stop. He rubs his face against Cas’s while Cas continues to wail. “You fucking neanderthal! De-aa-n! Stop!” But he’s giggling too, wild and uncontrolled and when Dean kisses him again he responds enthusiastically. Dean’s yanking his sweats down to grab at his cock, grinding against Castiel's thigh as he kisses him. Cas breaks away from the kiss, tracing a finger along Dean's lower lip while Dean stares at him with an uncharacteristic intensity, before pushing the finger in along with two more. Dean bites them lightly, making Cas giggle and push his fingers a little farther as retaliation. Dean runs his tongue along them, smiling as he pulls off and plants a kiss against the palm of Cas’s hand, before he licks a long stripe up it. Cas smiles back at him and wraps his hand around Dean's cock, grabbing it at the base and tugging at it in long strokes as Dean rests his forehead on the mattress beside the crook of Castiel's neck so Cas can hear every single wrecked noise that he’s making, every “fuck yes keep going, so good Cas you’re so good I love you I love you” and Cas kisses his temple and says “I love you too” and it's saccharine and probably really cliche, if your emotionally stunted boyfriend telling him he loves you while you jerk him off on your mattress on the floor of your tiny, weird room is a cliche, but it’s true. Cas loves Dean, and Dean loves him too. They trust each other enough to admit that. Sometimes when it’s like this Dean just melts into him. Cas is pulled from his thoughts as Deans moans become a little rougher, a little quicker, and he’s cumming, messy on Cas’s hand and his thighs and Dean pulls him into another kiss before rolling to the side, panting and grinning. “See? I told you cumming on my face would be awesome.”

“Ugh, it was awesome but now there’s dried cum on my face because SOMEONE” He glares at Dean for emphasis, “thought it would be funny to rub my own jizz on my face, and it is not pleasant.” Cas frowns and grabs a tshirt from his laundry and tries to use it to clean himself off. Dean huffs, “dude and you say I’m gross! I’m gonna go get a towel, Jesus Christ, you little trash monster.” Cas sticks his tongue out, but says thank you when Dean comes back with a slightly damp towel. He hands it to Cas before starting to search through the piles of clothes on Cas’s floor for clean (or clean-ish) clothes. “Dude we made a mess.”  
“Uhm, you made a mess. I’m not the one going around demanding facials.”  
“You have to admit though, it was pretty awesome.”  
“You aren’t wrong, it was pretty awesome for like ten seconds before you ruined it.”  
“I did not ruin it, I just made it even more awesomer.”  
“Dean, awesomer is just. It’s just not a word.” Dean rolls his eyes and laughs, tackling Cas onto the bed and Cas laughs too, all light and wonderful, his head pressing against Dean's collarbone, his lips brushing against his chest, and for a second Dean is so happy he feels like his heart is about to burst, feels like he just wants to stay here, wrapped up in Cas and a gigantic blanket on a mattress on the floor. And they do just that. They stay there, just laying in bed, watching tv on the weirdly old tv in Cas’s room. Cas is all wrapped around Dean, his head against his chest and his arms around his waist. Dean can hear the rain starting to fall on the roof. It starts out as scattered, heavy drops, before turning into a steady downpour. Sometimes it can be so relieving when something inevitable to happen, finally happens.


	3. What The Fuck Is A Mimosa?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is hungover as fuck, but especially Castiel.

It’s months later, winter. Dean stays at Castiel's house a lot now, he’s probably there more often than he isn’t. Sam got a girlfriend, a pretty blonde girl named Jess with a nice family who seem very understanding of Sam's situation who let him stay at their house whenever he wants, even when it’s weeks on end. At least, that’s what Sam says. He talks about Jess a lot, and Dean only hears good things. He’d say that he wants to meet her, but he has a feeling that they probably wouldn’t get along too well. Dean and happy, well-adjusted people don’t mix.

He’s sitting on Castiel's front porch smoking a cigarette, enjoying the fresh morning air. Castiel is sitting next to him, wrapped in a big blanket and leaning against him heavily. He’s half asleep and his breath billows out in clouds in front of him, his forehead pressed against Dean's shoulder. There’s a blanket of snow covering everything, and Dean can see the footprints left in the snow on the lawn from last night from when him, Anna, Gabe, Cas, and Lucifer all went to a party, came home absolutely hammered and probably woke up everyone in the apartment buildings and houses they passed as they yelled and argued and screamed with laughter. Also Lucifer peed on someone's lawn on the way home. He thinks he can sort of tell whose footprints are whose. The staggering, looping trail of small-ish ones are Gabes. The ones right next to them are probably Annas. Last night Gabriel was so shitfaced that Anna had to practically carry him into the house. He can still see an imprint in the snow from where Cas slipped and fell because he was too drunk and refused to let anyone help him into the house. Deans footprints are next to Cas’s and there's a small circle of them around where Cas fell. Lucifers zig zag across one side of the lawn, over the cement walkway, and onto the other side and then back again. 

Cas mumbles about how it's “Too fucking cold outside.” and Dean wants to tell him that of course it’s cold, there’s snow everywhere and Cas isn’t wearing anything except his boxers and some knee high socks and a large blanket draped around him. But he doesn't say anything. Dean puts his cigarette out and tosses it into a the empty beer can on the porch that functions as an ashtray and stands up, extending a hand to help Cas up. They stay with their hands held together as they walk into and through the house, and it’s so cold that Cas doesn’t have to be worried about his palms getting sweaty. 

When they get inside, it’s strangely quiet. Anna and Gabe are still asleep in their rooms, instead of on the couch where they usually end up falling asleep with the tv still on. Even Cas is quiet, sleepy and hungover from their night out, his hand loosely in Deans as they walk through the house back to Cas’s room so they can go back to sleep, or fuck, or smoke weed and watch cartoons. They’ll probably do all four of those things at some point or another during the day. Before they get too far out of the living room, Dean doubles back and goes to the fridge, pulling out two beers, and then grabbing some pop tarts out of a cabinet. Castiel gives him a slightly puzzled look. Dean grins and winks. “Breakfast.”  
“I don't think beer counts as breakfast.”  
“No, the breakfast is the pop tarts. The beer is just, uh, beer!” He grins, and holds one out for Cas. Cas makes a huffy noise. “You’re a horrible influence.”  
“Says the guy who smokes more weed than anyone I’ve ever met in my life”  
“Untrue. Lucifer and Gabriel both smoke more weed than me.”  
“He grows weed! And doesn’t Gabe sell acid? I don’t know if you should be proud that the only two people who smoke more weed than you are drug dealers and or manufacturers.”  
“Fine! You win the argument, you’re totally a great influence on me” Cas says as he rolls his eyes, opens his beer and taps it against Dean's beer. “Cheers!” Dean grins.   
“Cheers.” He still can’t get over the feeling of peace. The quietness of the house. The relaxed, happy look in Cas’s eyes as he sips his beer and leans his head against Dean's shoulder. They just stand there for a second, Dean lowering his head so his forehead is pressed against the top of Cas’s head. He closes his eyes partially because he wants to just focus on this, this feeling. And also partially because Cas’s hair was kind of getting in his eyes and that was a weird, annoying feeling. Cas breaks the silence. “Dean Winchester, you are delightful.”  
“You’re pretty alright too, Cas,” and Dean can practically hear Castiel rolling his eyes.   
“One of these days you’re gonna roll your eyes too hard and they’re gonna get stuck.”  
“Uh, okay mom, I’ll keep it in mind that I should develop a new knee-jerk response to you being a complete fucking buffoon.”  
“Hey, I’m a complete fucking buffoon, but at least I’m a sexy complete fucking buffoon.”  
Cas hums, “Yes, the hot thing does sort of balance out the buffoon thing.”  
“Can we stop saying buffoon? I feel like we’ve said it more in this conversation than anyone else has said it this during the entire year. Seriously what is with you and your weird words?”  
“Sorry that I have a more developed and complex relationship with the English language than you.” Cas teases, and sticks his tongue out. “C’mon, let's stop bickering in the kitchen before anyone else wakes up.”   
“Sounds real good, but wait, I forgot something.”  
“Hmm? What?”

Dean walks back to the fridge, opens it, and grabs the entire six pack of beer. “Alright, now we’re ready to do Sunday right.”  
“Jesus, Dean. I thought people were supposed to drink like, mimosas and bloody marys when they’re hungover at 11 am on a Sunday. Not entire six packs.”  
“Well, I don’t know what the fuck a mimosa is, so we gotta drink this.”  
“Champagne and orange juice.”  
“What?”  
“That’s what mimosas are.”   
“Well you don’t have orange juice or champagne, you have uh…” Dean opens the fridge again. “Fruit punch and really cheap vodka?” Cas pulls a face and shakes his head.   
“I’m uh, good with the beer,” he says and laughs, taking another drink as he starts to walk out of the kitchen, and Dean is more than happy to follow him, through the living room, up the stairs, down the hall, up another flight, and then they’re both stumbling backwards, Cas’s hand in his as he pulls him down onto the bed. They fall heavily onto the mattress, and just lay there for a second, Cas’s forehead pressed between Dean's shoulder blades, his arm slung over his hip. They are quiet, and the seconds turn into minutes, and Dean thinks he can feel exactly when Cas falls back asleep. Dean stays awake, content to just lie there. He can hear a door opening and someone walking across the floor somewhere downstairs, and he can see snow on Cas’s windowsill, and he’s thinking about all the things he’ll tell Cas when he wakes up again, and he is very, very happy.


End file.
